


oh my god they were roommates

by bro_senpai



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Drunk Sex, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Roommates, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bro_senpai/pseuds/bro_senpai
Summary: Roxas and Axel were best friends. Are best friends. They had really only known each other for somewhere around seven months, but both of them agreed on that.He really hopes they still agree on it after this though, because it was this morning that Roxas woke up, not in his own room, in his own bed, but in Axel's room and, more specifically, in Axel's bed.Naked and wrapped up with the man himself, who was also completely naked.
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	oh my god they were roommates

Roxas slipped into reality with the uncomfortable feeling that someone was tickling his nose.

  


Groggily, he tried to swipe a hand across his face to clear the feeling away, but, upon doing so, quickly realized he was incapable. 

  


His eyes shot open.

  


A clavicle, a bare chest and wisps of long, red hair--that very obviously belonged to someone he should not be waking up next to--greeted him and Roxas started to sweat.

  


Thank fuck Axel was still sleeping.

  


He tried to move out from between the sheets without much jostling so as to not wake his roommate and subject them both to something that was rapidly unraveling to be the most awkward morning of his life, but they were just...  _ so entwined _ . His right arm was trapped to the bed under Axel's side, both Axel's arms were locked around his chest, his left arm was slung over Axel's hips and all of their legs were tangled together. They were one giant, two-person knot.

  


Not to mention, Axel’s hair would  _ not stop tickling him _ . 

  


As he wiggled his torso he noticed that something he did not want to identify, but could definitely take a guess at, had dried to the skin of his stomach and chest. As he shifted his legs he could feel a dull ache and--oh god-- _ more mess, _ which was tacky on his thighs and sluggishly leaking out from a place he didn't want to think about. He bit his lips, which he could already tell were swollen, and tried not to freak out.

  


Fuck _.  _ Fuck!  _ What the fuck was going on? _

  


Roxas silently thanked anyone who was listening that Axel was a heavy sleeper, because finally-- _ finally _ \--Roxas untangled himself from the other man and was able to pull himself out of the bed and set his feet on the floor. 

  


And then his knees buckled.

  


His hand flew out to quickly grab the edge of the mattress so he wouldn't hit the floor. Roxas' legs felt like jelly and they wobbled like jelly. He only wished they really were jelly, because jelly didn't have muscles and if he didn't have muscles then maybe all of his wouldn't be  _ screaming _ . The ache that throbbed between his legs--His ass, OK? His asshole was hurting--was also making itself known in his lower back.  _ In  _ his lower back, as in  _ inside _ , because  _ something had been inside of Roxas’ ass _ . 

  


Something big too, because while they had never fucked before, Roxas had seen Axel's... thing.

  


Fuck.

  


Not only was the entire lower half of his body one giant ache, but his head was also throbbing and his eyes hurt.  _ Hungover _ , was what his brain unhelpfully supplied, and that was more than obviously a side effect of the  _ cause  _ of all of this. It was also something that Roxas actually did remember. Last night was Kairi's birthday. They had gone to a club. He had drank a lot more than was usual for him.

  


The party. The booze. Then...?

  


_ (...Falling into Axel's bed, dragging Axel with him with his legs wrapped around his waist, kissing every square inch of Axel he could attach his mouth to...) _

  


Oh, fuck.

  


The room around him was trashed. Axel's room was always messy, but this was different. This was like a tornado had blown through. Two tornados. 

  


Two tornados that were fucking. 

  


Roxas hobbled around the room and--very, very  _ carefully _ \--collected his clothes from the floor. He was terrified. What was Axel going to think when he woke up? What was he going to think of  _ him _ ? Did friendships usually survive things like this? Roxas didn't have the answers to any of these questions, but he was probably going to get them whether he liked it or not.

  


This wasn't something that was undoable. For the rest of his life, he would live with the knowledge that he had gotten fucked by Axel and-- _ goddamn it!  _

  


Startling himself with his own thoughts, he tripped off his own wobbly legs, falling backwards and landing flat on his ass with a thump.

  


He  _ yelped _ . 

  


His face burned at the noise that had just left his mouth, he didn’t even know he could  _ make  _ a sound like that, but the pain of landing on his sore butt was, also, pretty terrible. He hissed through his teeth as he rubbed his ass. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow..." he mumbled, trying to pick himself back up. He didn't even think about how loud he had just been until Axel's previously passed-out form began shifting on the bed. 

  


_ No, no, no, no, no, no, no...! _

  


Axel grumbled and stretched, making the climb from pleasant unconsciousness to the cruel reality of the morning and, probably, to a hangover similar to what Roxas was experiencing. (He would have more sympathy, but for some reason, he just didn’t care right now.) Smacking his lips, Axel peeled himself off the bed, sheets slipping down his rising chest and pooling in his lap, just barely preserving his modesty. His hair looked like it had been raked through and yanked. Roxas face was a furnace as his eyes cataloged all the bites and hickeys that started at his jaw and kept moving down. He kept his eyes from following them too far.

  


For a moment, his best friend looked around himself, blurry-eyed and confused in the still-dark room. Roxas watched in horror as something like comprehension dawned on his face and then, noticing there was no woman in bed beside him, his eyes traveled forward across the disarray, landing on Roxas where he was stuck on the floor, leaking a mess out of his ass and onto Axel's carpet.

  


He blinked.

  


"Oh, shit," is what Axel decided to say.

  


Wrestling with his own pride, he tried to pull himself to his feet, all the affected muscles screaming back at him for his efforts. He didn’t even want to think of what he looked like right now and it was made ten-times worse by the fact that all his feeble attempts ended in failure, each one landing him back on the ground. Fuck, was he really going to have to  _ crawl  _ out of his best friend's room the morning after they had drunkenly fucked?

  


Axel hadn't said anything else since his original statement, seeming to stick by it. He watched with wide eyes as Roxas struggled on the ground, unsure of what to do now.

  


Finally, abandoning all semblance of dignity, Roxas admitted, "I need help." He cursed himself at the sound of his own voice. His cheeks burned, and his eyes prickled with an emotional mix of frustration and shame and the most potent embarrassment he had ever experienced in his twenty years of life. He refused to cry. There was no way he was letting himself look any more pathetic than this. 

  


He was low enough already.

  


"Huh?" was Axel’s lack-luster response.

  


Roxas didn't consider him to be blessed with great tact on the best of days, but that was definitely the wrong thing to say.

"You want me to spell it out for you? I can't get up! I'm stuck on the fucking floor!" He exploded, voice raised and face crimson. And, fuck, maybe he was going to cry as anger reared it's ugly head through his already tumoltous feelings.

  


His outburst did succeed in breaking Axel out of his disoriented daze. 

  


"Shit-- I mean. Yes." 

  
  
  
  
  


Axel hauled-ass out of bed to go help him, only remembering when Roxas turned his face away that he was still naked. "Oh, fuck. Just let me... pants." He struggled, his face a similar hue to Roxas'.

  


The blonde nodded and Axel threw on the first pair of underwear he could find on the floor because, right now, who the fuck cared.

"Are-- Are you ok? Your legs...?" He asked, as he moved to where Roxas was sitting on the carpet. 

  


It was immediately apparent that Roxas did not appreciate his concern.

  


"I'm fine." The blonde snapped through gritted teeth and Axel backed off. 

  


He gripped a hand under Roxas' armpit and pulled him up carefully, allowing him to lean against him as he got to his feet. Roxas still winced as he was pulled from the ground despite Axel's attempt not to hurt him.

  


In almost any other context, Axel would have felt great knowing he had literally fucked someone off their feet, but not now. Not when it was Roxas and Roxas looked like he wanted to kill him and then himself. Now was... shit.

  


"Bathroom." Roxas muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

  


Axel took him to the bathroom. 

  


It was awkward and most of Roxas' weight was supported by him. Axel only let the blonde's feet lightly touch against the floor as they went because he really didn’t know how much he could take right now. He had never had to take care of someone like this before and he had also never had to experience what Roxas was currently experiencing. 

  


When they made it, he pushed open the door for Roxas to enter and Roxas let go of him, walking, a bit wobbly, inside.

  


"Are you sure you’re--?"

  


The door slammed in Axel's face.

  


Fuck.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The hot water felt good on Roxas' skin and abused muscles. He hadn't looked into the mirror on his way into the shower, he could already guess what he looked like and he didn't need that confirmed right now. Instead, he just took care of the most damning evidence underneath the scalding spray. 

  


The... spunk on his stomach and chest came off easily enough. There was what he assumed to be dried lube on his legs, and residue on his dick, but that wasn't really an issue either. Cleaning himself out was a little more difficult. He didn't have any experience or knowledge of 'how' to fall back on, but after sticking his fingers up there in what seemed to be the most obvious method he... well, he felt like he got it well enough.

  


The rest was all routine, just a matter of pushing himself through the motions. Still, even after he was clean he stayed, letting the spray sooth his tension and his aches and his temper. He thought about sitting down on the shower floor and enjoying it for a while, but sitting might be worse and even worse than that would be if he couldn't get himself back up and then he’d have to call Axel  _ again  _ and…

  


He didn't get out until the hot water was gone and then, ruefully, he looked at himself in the mirror. 

  


Although his skin was wiped clean and his assumed prior sex-hair was now wet and lifeless, he still looked... well-fucked. Hickeys and bites dotted his skin--chest, neck, and jaw--similar to the ones he had seen on Axel himself. His lips looked like they had been kissed to bruise, and they were very obviously bitten. On his hips and ass was more bruising, this time in the shape of two large hands.

  


Seriously. How rough had they been?

Apart from the last thing, this wasn’t something he was going to be able to cover up easily. He was contemplating even calling Xion and asking if she had any makeup he could borrow. Fuck, he had never even worn makeup. Did that shit even work on this?

  


He brushed his teeth because his mouth tasted like death and other things, before wrapping himself in a towel and turning to retreat to his room.

As he opened the door, he had to catch himself right before he stepped onto some fresh clothes that had been placed in front of it. He accepted them and changed in the bathroom, thinking that maybe it wasn’t nice to have used up all the hot water.

  


But, it was too late now.

  


Reamerging for real this time, Roxas thought he should probably thank Axel for the clothes and maybe apologize for his temper earlier (and then discuss how they should both pretend this had never happened), but he noticed he couldn't hear Axel around at all. His best friend was a loud person, clumsy, and always walking with heavy feet and dropping shit. The apartment was... too quiet.

  


Passing by his room he noticed that Axel had cleaned in the time Roxas had spent washing. Roxas poked his head in, but didn't see the man himself. However, sheets and pillowcases were stripped from the bed and thrown in the hamper to be washed alongside the clothes that had previously been tossed everywhere. The mess Roxas had made sitting on the floor was also gone. Everything was straightened and deceptively tidy. If it wasn't for the missing sheets, Roxas could almost look in and pretend that nothing had happened.

  


Almost.

  


After not hearing him and not seeing him in his room, Roxas was curious now as to where exactly Axel could have gone. He hadn’t showered yet and Axel, who was particular about his appearance, wouldn’t just leave without doing so. 

  


Even so, their apartment was small. Beside his own room, there was only one place left to look. 

  


As he walked over, he was quickly and un-sympathetically reminded that this was the only room besides Roxas’ own that actually had a window, and, as such, was the first glimpse of the sun he had experienced all day. The annoying ball of gas shining in, bright and cheerful, burned his eyes and made his head throb as he groaned. 

  


The living room and kitchen were basically the same room, only separated by a counter and the difference between carpet and tile. The space was open, and yet still somehow felt cramped, because this apartment was funded by two college students' bank accounts and only one of them actually had a job. 

  


Due to this, it was very easy to tell with one glance that Axel wasn't here, either. 

  


On normal mornings, Roxas would usually find him sprawled out across the couch and watching some shitty TV cooking show, feet hanging from an armrest because he was way too fucking tall to be laying like that. Or, he would be cooking breakfast for them in the kitchen, humming out a song he'd just made up while he flipped pancakes and got batter everywhere.

Roxas didn’t expect him to be doing any of these things today, but he was still surprised by his disappearance. 

  


So, he  _ had  _ just left. 

  


Walking further into the room, he saw a glass of water, two Tylenol capsules, and a note waiting for him on the counter. It's sloppy script told him:

  


_ Went out. Take the medicine. _

_ \-- Axel _

  


“Avoiding me now? You asshole.” Roxas mumbled to no one, but went about doing as the note told him anyway.

  


As he swallowed the pills he thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad to have some space after the horror show that was this morning. As much as they needed to talk it through, he really didn’t want to. 

  


What mostly bothered him was Axel tripping over himself to get away, like this was his fault or something. 

  


_ Ugh _ , he thought as he really put his mind to it. Maybe it was his fault, actually. At least, mostly. He had always been a clingy drunk, and he was often told by others that he and Axel always blurred the lines between ‘friendship’ and ‘relationship’. He’d never paid much mind to these comments because they were best friends and roommates, so obviously they’d be closer to each other than most. It could be argued that the odds had been against them. That the chance of this happening had risen exponentially with the longer they spent together out-of-their-minds wasted. That they had finally pushed lady-luck too far.

  


But, still. 

  


Roxas reminded himself as he put away the cup that Axel had actually spent the time to make sure he was ok this morning before getting the hell out of dodge. He’d be back. This was his apartment too.

  


“Whatever. I don’t give a shit.” He told himself as his hips throbbed and reminded him to be angry.

  


Right now, he really needed to lie back down.

  


He padded over to the couch, too lazy to go back to his room. Grabbing the blanket off of it, he wrapped himself up before collapsing down-- _ gently _ \--against it. It was some god-awful  _ ‘Frozen’  _ print thing that Axel had picked up from the department store months ago. He’d never admit it out-loud, but it was actually really soft.

  


Sinking into the worn-out cushions of the hand-me-down couch, Roxas turned on the TV, quickly lulled back to sleep by the sounds of frantic chefs building statues out of chocolate.

  
  
  
  
  
  


In his dreams Axel was fucking him.

  


The slick slide of his cock driving in and out of him, rubbing in all the right places he had never even known of. It was causing Roxas to arch his back and scream. A mantra of  _ good, yes, more _ was flying from his lips faster than he could choke out the words. Axel's arms were wrapped tight around him, his head bent down by his neck, his hot breath panting in his ear. All Roxas could hear was his breath, his groans, his sweet-nothings that told him how good he was, how perfect, how warm, how  _ tight… _

Roxas opened his eyes with a jolt.

  


The room was dark aside from the synthetic glow of the left-on television, no more sun left to shine through the window. He would be thankful, but he was unfortunately aware that he had slept just his entire day away, and the heavy weight of wasted hours dragged his mood.

  


Speaking of things that were dragging on his mood...

  


Rubbing at his eyes, he moved the blanket out of the way and looked down at himself with a sigh. He refused to allow himself to rub this one out simply based on the principle of what caused it. The path back to normality was not paved with awkward jerk-sessions to the memory of fucking your best friend.

He waited until he had deflated before stumbling to his feet. 

  


His aches felt... a lot better actually. Not 'fine', but more fine than they had been. The pounding behind his eyes had also passed. Similar to the way his soreness had faded Roxas himself now felt subdued. All his previously harsher emotions had sort of lulled into a dull throb.

  


He turned off the TV before pulling the horrible blanket off the floor and tugging it around his shoulders. The apartment got pretty cold during the evening and the blanket was still warm from sleep. Axel was also very warm, his brain supplied, which was true even if he didn’t want to be reminded of that right now. Roxas sometimes used him as a human-shaped hot-water bottle to fight off the chill in this place. 

  


Thinking about the man got him moving from the living room and walking down the short hallway to peer cautiously at Axel's door. 

  


It was still open as he had left it. No one seemed to be inside.

  


Axel still hadn't come back.

  


With another sigh, Roxas padded his way back to the kitchen and pulled something small out of the fridge. He didn't have a huge appetite, but he knew he needed something in terms of food after reminding himself he had not eaten all day.

  


It didn't taste right. Axel was always the one to cook for them and, having gotten used to his meals, just shoveling a handful of lunchmeat in his mouth wasn't satisfying at all. He ate it anyway.

  


While he was eating, he checked the note again.

  


A third sigh and he lay his head down against the cool countertop while he thumbed at the note. The blanket was a warm, heavy weight around his shoulders. Comforting, as he sat there and thought about what he was supposed to do next.

  


He didn't want to go back to sleep, even though it was only nine in the evening and he knew if he didn't he'd end up sleeping all day tomorrow too. It was also hard to think of something else he could actually do as it felt simultaneously too early and too late. He went through several possible pastimes in his head, but didn't feel like actually doing any of them.

  


Finally, maybe a little oddly, he settled on cleaning. Axel hadn’t finished the laundry before he’d left, after all, and going to the laundromat would get him out of the apartment. Out of his head.

  


With his mind made up, Roxas threw off the blanket and grabbed a trash bag from under the sink to hold all the laundry. Then, after collecting it all inside, threw a hoodie over his t-shirt and a beanie over his hair that had been ruined by the couch before locking the door behind him on his way out, change for the service jingling alongside his keys in his pocket.

  


The laundromat was a bright spot on the dark street. All lit up while most of the shops around were already closing down for the night. He actually liked this place pretty well. There was usually nothing to do while the laundry cycled, so he'd get to listen to music and be lazy, unbothered by the couple of others milling about around him. Today, while the clothes washed, Roxas listened to the music blaring from his headphones and imagined Axel's reaction to coming home and seeing everything clean. 

  


He’d probably be shocked, if anything, but it was fun to imagine that stupid surprise painted over his face. Roxas could feel a smile breaking across his own as he thought of it.

  


That is, until he reminded himself of the most recent time Axel was that surprised.

  


_ Ah _ , Roxas thought as his mood went down again as he felt his face heat up, maybe after today it was best not to remember what Axel looked like when he was surprised to the point of stupidity.

  


The music in his ears was low enough that he could hear the machine in front of him beeping that the wash cycle had finished. He took them all out and threw them in the dryer.

  


He was suddenly unsure of what his real reason for doing this was.  _ Cleaning the apartment _ ? He guessed, maybe, it could be a peace offering of sorts. A distraction so both of them could forget that the morning had even happened. Axel could stop acting like a baby and they could just be normal.

  


_ Was fucking me really that bad?  _

  


No, no, no. That’s not what he meant.

  


Sure, they were both straight and he’d also been a little more than freaked out after waking up, but that was mostly from the surprise and pain! This wasn’t something that was undoable, but it was something that they could get past, right? Lots of best friends accidentally fucked each other… right? 

  


Fucking shit. What was he supposed to do now? 

  


Roxas grabbed the clothes and threw them forcefully back into the garbage bag, grumbling to himself. Concerned onlookers watched him from the corners of their eyes and took caution to retain their distance from him. Roxas didn’t notice. Twisting up the top of the bag, he threw it all over one shoulder and kicked the door open forcefully so he could get home already.

  


So much for getting out of his own head.

  


His mood didn’t improve along the trek back, and when he returned home he angrily dusted and tidied the entire place. He even went into Axel’s room and aggressively hung up all his clothes. When he was finished their place had never looked so clean, and threw himself onto the couch and waited.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


As the clock ticked just past one in the afternoon, Roxas was finally reaching the point where he felt maybe Axel wasn’t going to come back. And, of course, that was when the man finally walked through the door

  


He was messing around on some mobile game, lounging and wrapped up in that dumb-ass blanket while he munched on potato chips, when he heard the lock click. A bolt of anxiety shot through his chest at the sound, causing him to stiffen without meaning to. Roxas forced himself to relax as the door opened softly. 

  


He twisted around to see. 

  


Axel didn’t look at him right away, eyes focused on his shoes as he shuffled them off on the small square of tiled floor in the pseudo-entryway. Roxas realizes quickly that the hickeys that were along his neck and jaw yesterday are gone, his skin smooth and clear. 

  


Ah. Makeup. 

  


It wasn't really weird for Axel to wear some sort of makeup, but today he must've been wearing a lot. The bruising was dark, so it must've been a lot of trouble to cover up.

  


He assumed. He didn’t really know. He didn’t wear makeup. 

  


The thought of Axel working so hard to hide them made Roxas hyper-aware of his own, peeking out from above the collar of his shirt and littering his throat. He’d almost forgotten about them and wondered if he should’ve covered them up too.

  


It was too late for that now anyway, because with his shoes off Axel looked up and spotted him, leering quietly from over the back of the sofa.

  


They stared at each other through a beat of silence.

  


Finally Roxas spoke. “Welcome back,” he greeted and couldn’t help the slight air of accusation in his tone as he did so. As an afterthought he added, awkwardly, “I cleaned.”

  


The other man looked around at Roxas' behest. "Oh, thanks." The gratitude sounded the wrong side of genuine. Just something to say because he knew it was expected.

  


Roxas had never had such a hard time talking to Axel. Even when they had first been introduced, conversation had always flowed effortlessly for them. Now, he couldn’t think of a single word that would clear this ‘thing’ bogging them down. And the longer they stand in silence, the more he thinks, realizes for the first time since he woke up yesterday that there is nothing he can say. There are no words that will fix this, make it better, kill this awkward ‘something’ between them.

  


So, he does the only thing left he knows to do.

  


Axel looks like he’s about to retreat, ‘ABORT’ written over the discomfort on his face, but Roxas wasn’t about to let him.

  


He jumps up off the couch just as Axel is just beginning to move towards his room, some sort of excuse Roxas doesn’t care about on the edge of his lips. He crosses the space between them in three quick strides and pulls back his fist, punching Axel square in the face. 

  


Blood spurts from Axel’s nose. “What the fuck?!” He cries out in pain and confusion, hand flying up to clutch at his injury. The lines in his face switch from unease to anger.

  


“Stop being a dick, you asshole!” Roxas yells back. He raised his arm to punch him again.

  


Axel’s free hand closes around his wrist, halting Roxas’ blow towards him. With the arm Axel isn’t holding he hits him again, banging against the man’s side.

  


“Stop!” Axel protests with a grunt, pain coloring his words, but he pulls back his own fist and it lands, knocking into the side of Roxas’ face. 

  


He doesn’t fall, but it’s a near thing, stumbling back before moving closer again, landing another hit, this time against Axel’s jaw.

  


Axel growls and the sound lights Roxas’ body on fire. It pulls up buried memories of Axel on top of him, driving into him, forcing that damn noise right into his ear drums.

  


They grapple with each other, pulling back and pressing forward all at once. They both stumble, landing on the ground, Roxas on his back and Axel above him, swinging fists and panting with the effort. None of it hurts, he notices, as he keeps throwing punches. 

  


With a well-timed twist Roxas flips them, his legs straddling Axel’s stomach and he bangs on his friend’s chest with both hands. Axel lets out a breathless  _ ‘oof’  _ and stops, breathing heavily. Both of them are sweating and trying desperately to pull air into their lungs. As the adrenaline fades, the hurt begins, but it feels good. He can feel his expression, eyes bright and wild, exhilarated and Axel is looking up at him in slight awe. It fades slightly, as they both come back to themselves, but Roxas can still see it lingering in the corners of his eyes. 

  


Axel’s chest is heaving slightly under his palms as he tries to catch his breath. “S-stop, Roxas. Someone’s going to call the cops.” he pants, wincing slightly as he speaks. Red is still running from his nose, painting his upper lip crimson while a little rolls across his cheek as gravity pulls it.

  


“You jerk.” Roxas responds, similarly winded. “We have to fucking talk about this.”

  


Axel looks away, eyes sharp and glaring up to the ceiling, angry for the first time since he was punched. For all his frustration he still looks tired. “I don’t want to.” He says, and Roxas decides that’s not good enough.

  


“Too bad. You don’t have a choice.”

  


Axel chuckles, closing his eyes, and, even if it’s exasperated, the laugh is real. “Gonna punch me again?”

  


Roxas’ fingers dig into the man’s shirt, pulling it up towards him, lifting Axel’s back and shoulders slightly from the ground. “I’ll punch you as many times as it takes for you to stop being a bitch.” He promises, face inches from the other’s.

  


Axel’s eyes fly open to meet his again, flashing with the challenge. 

  


“That’s funny.” he bites out, “I don’t remember being the bitch.”

  


Their lips smash together, teeth clacking and tasting of blood. Roxas licks into Axel’s mouth, hands moving from his shirt to tangle in his hair. His tongue maps out the roof of Axel’s mouth, licks the backs of Axel’s teeth, and Axel moans. The sound travels across his tongue, moves right back between Roxas’ lips and presses into the back of his own throat until it’s his. Roxas shifts his hips and grinds down onto Axel’s crotch as their tongues do battle, writhing, sliding against each other, slick and wet until saliva is sliding down his chin. 

  


He clings onto him as Axel sits up, still grinding down as Axel’s hands move to grip at his waist underneath his clothes, pads of his fingers putting pressure on his skin. Axel’s hands help him move, shifting his weight to roll his hips and pressing him against Axel  _ better _ . Axel thrusts up to meet against every push down. 

  


He lets go of his lips to breath, head tilting back and Axel latches onto his neck, biting and sucking. Every place he touches tingles, vibrating pleasure under his skin.

  


( _ He’s been over the edge of drunk for hours, now he clings to Axel. His head rests on his shoulder, red hair brushing against his cheek. He’s close enough to smell him. Axel’s cologne and soap mingle together pleasantly in his nose. He can taste them on his tongue. The scent is familiar, but it’s never made him so tempted before. Axel looks down to him, grinning. His cheeks are flushed from drinking. “You look sexy.” Roxas tells him. “I always look sexy.” He replies.) _

  


“ _ Axel _ ,” he begs. The words leave his lips, but he doesn’t even know what he wants.

  


Axel groans, low in his throat and bites his shoulder, hands letting go of his hips so arms can circle his waist. “What are we doing?” He speaks into his skin, words buzzing across the surface of him.

  


( _ His arms are around Axel’s neck, his legs around his hips, as their mouths devour each other. Axel carries him into his room and they collapse like that on the bed. Everything around him smells like Axel and he’s losing his mind. “What are we doing?” Axel asks between their lips. “It doesn’t matter.” Roxas moans.) _

  


_ “ _ Does it matter?” Roxas asks.

  


( _ “It doesn’t,” Axel admits against his ear. _ )

  


“I don’t want to lose you,” Axel confesses against his throat.

  


( _ They’re fucking, but Axel seems so far away.) _

  


They’re not really fucking, but the way Axel clings to him is desperate.

  


( _ Roxas looks at him and says… _ )

  


“Then, don’t stop.”

  


Axel shutters against him and with one last thrust their both coming undone. Roxas ignores the mess in his pants for the warm feeling of Axel’s arms around him. Their chests heave together. He can feel Axel’s heartbeat against his own.

  


He leans back so he can look at him, pushing against Axel’s hold which loosens but refuses to break. 

  


Axel looks wrecked; blood and sweat mingle on his face.

  


“Why are you crying, idiot?” Roxas asks, swiping at the mess with his sleeve. It would be gross, if it were anyone but him.

  


“Shut up,” Axel replies, with no bite. He leans his forehead down against Roxas’ shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He says quietly, and it’s barely a breath. If he wasn’t leaning in so close Roxas wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

  


“You don’t have to apologize. I already knew you were extra stupid.”

  


He lets out a wet chuckle. “We’re still friends, right?”

  


Roxas assures him, “We’re best friends.”

  


“Yeah.”

  


His arms tighten around him as they sit and breathe. They stay like that, minutes feeling like hours, until Axel’s legs go numb under Roxas’ weight, and Roxas can’t take the feeling of his own cum soaking his boxers anymore.

  


“I’m hungry,” he tells him, breaking the silence and Axel laughs so he continues. “I feel gross. My legs hurt. Your arms are crushing my chest. I can’t breathe.”

  


Axel’s arms loosen. “You are the one sitting on me, you know?”

  


“Oh.” Stupidly, he realizes Axel is right, and he has to be the one to get up first.

  


“Who’s the idiot now?” He teases as Roxas gets to his feet.

  


“Still you. Try to stand up.”

  


He watches Axel fight against the pins-and-needles feeling in his legs as he tries to stand with a smirk. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Axel groans, rubbing at his legs.

  


“Do you need me to carry you to the bathroom?” He questions, self-satisfied.

  


“This is not the same,” Axel whines. “You ruined my legs with your fat ass.  _ I  _ ruined your legs with my--”

  


Roxas punched him. “Shut up.”

  


Axel snickered around a wince, but didn’t say anything else. 


End file.
